


Invoked

by Missy



Category: Laverne & Shirley (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Succubi & Incubi, F/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Romance, Succubi & Incubi, Summoning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-23 08:22:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30052635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: Laverne's at her lowest when "Madame Olga" brings her a candle that's supposed to spice up her sex life.  What it does instead is summon a very familiar Incubus stuck between heaven and hell with a mission to help her find true love and great sex - on pain of losing his soul eternally.
Relationships: Laverne DeFazio/Lenny Kosnowski
Comments: 4
Kudos: 4





	Invoked

_Devil or angel, I can't make up my mind  
Which one you are I'd like to wake up and find  
Devil or angel dear, whichever you are  
I miss you, I miss you, I miss you_ \- Devil or Angel, Blanche Carter

Laverne stood back from the door as her old elementary school pal Paula Rosenzweig, in full Madame Olga drag, burst through her front door, brandishing a package wrapped in what appeared to be Spanish moss. “Laverne! I came as soon as I got your letter.”

She cringed, remembering why she’d sent the thing. “It’s all right,” she said. “The ghost’s gone now.” The embarrassment of that week would live in the back of Laverne’s mind forever, like the time she’d broken wind in front of her whole junior high class during a sixth-grade spelling bee.

“Oh,” Olga sighed. “Well, that’s one less bundle of sage down the drain,” she observed. “But I did bring something else for you. To help with your romantic woes!” She pulled out the moss-covered cylindrical object and pressed it into Laverne’s palms. 

Laverne started and felt the intimidating width and weight of the thing in her hand. “Paula, please tell me this ain’t…”

Paula raised an eyebrow, her light mirror-eyes making them look eerily transparent. “Laverne, one does not simply gift their friend with marital aids.”

“Right,” Laverne said, relief filling her. “So what’s it supposed to do?”

“It’s a candle from one of the girls in my munch group,” said Paula. “If you light it and let it burn, all of your erotic desires will be fulfilled.” 

“I don’t exactly have a problem with that,” Laverne retorted.

“That’s not what your letter said,” Paula replied.

“Geeze,” Laverne groaned. “Can we forget about that?” She’d been at the foot of a very bad break up with Mike when she’d written the letter, two weeks away from a very embarrassing drunken party on an aircraft carrier that had sent her to a nunnery. Out of loneliness and – honestly – horniness, she’d written Paula that she’d do anything to find a guy who’d be a reliable, decent lover.

“A woman like you – in her prime, filled with life and desire – deserves pleasure and love just as much as the next woman. The loneliness in it frightened me, Laverne. I thought for sure you’d do something drastic. With Shirley gone and Carmine in New York and Squiggy in the service and Lenny…”

Laverne looked down. “Lenny died.” There. She’d said the words she couldn’t bring herself to say after she’d heard about the traffic accident, or when she was sitting beside his casket at his traditional Polish funeral. The entire month of May had been a nightmare, and she’d entered June by burying herself in work, protest marches and weekend love-ins.

And yet she’d nearly lost everyone, just as Paula had said. Her father’s political ambitions kept him on his toes and far from her door; Shirley called twice a week, wrote long newsy letters once a month, and had even flown in for Lenny’s Milwaukee funeral, but it wasn’t the same as having her here in California. Carmine only called occasionally, as he could barely afford the toll. Squiggy had been hollow-eyed and sad at the funeral. He’d signed up for a hitch in the navy and had left Los Angeles as soon as he could, telling Laverne he was going to storm the “beaches” of Da Nangh in Lenny’s name. Laverne –with only Rhonda and her work friends to keep her regular company – did not have the luxury of crying on the shoulders of her close friends.

“I’m so sorry about that,” Paula said. “He seemed like a nice kid when I saw him before.”

“He was a great guy. Really sweet.” The longer Lenny was gone, the more Laverne missed him. She wondered if it was just his absence that had sweetened her memory of him, but the yearning chasm in her doorway said much more than he wanted it to about how she felt for him. “Sorry. I need to clean up.” She gestured toward her dusty and cluttered living room, which would have made Shirley screech could she see it. “It’s…been a mess for a long time,” Laverne explained, rubbing her upper arms and looking away. 

Paula squeezed her arm. “Well, this candle won’t being you friends – but it will make you less lonely. Try it and see how it works, huh?”

Laverne snorted. “Right. If I end up with a stinky apartment and no guy by the end of the month, I’ll write you and tell you to get a refund.”

Paula laughed. Laverne offered her tea. The afternoon assuaged her loneliness, but then night fell.

Alone in her bedroom, she felt a little foolish as she lit the dark red candle. Was she this hard up? Worse – did she believe in love magic?

 _A ghost tried to use your body to settle an old grudge this year. You believe in magic,_ she told herself. With a groan, she turned in and fell into a deep sleep.

*** 

“Lousy lying candle!” Laverne hissed. It had been a week, and the fat red candle was now nothing more than a cinnamon and brimstone-scented lump in an ashtray. In spite of her attempt at a positive, open attitude, she had not met a new man – and in fact had been groped by the jerk she’d been fixed up with by Rhonda. The guy would have a limp for a good month thanks to Laverne, who took a shower and – just because she wanted to rid her room of his obnoxious cologne – lit the last of the candle before falling asleep.

She woke up hours later, in the dark of the night. She realized suddenly that the candle had guttered down to the base, burning the last of its wick. Laverne reached for the lamp, intending to turn on her night light. As she did so, she caught sight of something looming in the corner of the room, reflected by the pier glass in its corner.

Even though the very tall, blond-haired man standing on the opposite side of the bed was incredibly familiar to her, she still screamed bloody murder and reached under the bed for her trusty baseball bat.

_”Lenny?!”_


End file.
